


One Thousand Cranes

by Fudgesaucecakes



Series: Minecraft Oneshot Brainrot [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dream is sick, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Illness, Inspired by Folktales, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Sickness, Techno owes Dream a Favor, Technoblade is a Dream Apologist, Warden Sam | Awesamdude, is this angst?, kinda OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29568924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgesaucecakes/pseuds/Fudgesaucecakes
Summary: When Dream designed the prison, he knew that the person occupying the maximum security cell would never be allowed to leave.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: Minecraft Oneshot Brainrot [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172378
Comments: 4
Kudos: 187





	One Thousand Cranes

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda bad, I know, but I've been festering on this idea since January and can't wait any longer to post it. Enjoy!

“Don’t bother trying to escape.” Sam said, leveling his gaze at Dream. “You and I both know that it’s impossible.” 

  


Dream sighed, settling into the cell that would be his home for the foreseeable future. “I can have visitors, right?” 

  


“As long as you behave, yes.” With a long look around the cell, Sam turned to go. He paused in the doorway, looking back at Dream. “You know what’s going to happen to you.” It wasn’t a question, just a confirmation of a fact. 

  


Dream nodded wordlessly. Of course he knew. He’d been the one to design the vault. 

  


Sam nodded back solemnly, and the netherite blocks rose back up with a mechanical thud, sealing Dream from the world. 

  


The first few days were easy. He slept, schemed in his notebooks, played with his clock. Sure it was boring, but at first it was a nice change from the turbulence of outside life. He was okay with a bit of rest.

  


The next month passed sluggishly. Days passed like molasses, slow and unchanging. No one visited, despite Dream’s good behavior. When he asked Sam why no one was coming, he replied that they didn’t want to. 

  


It stung. Even when he knew that he was the villain in their story, he still expected them to come see him. Tommy was supposed to gloat, Bad was supposed to come and comfort him, Sapnap and George were supposed to be here, to spend time with him because they were best friends, right? Despite everything, they would come eventually, right? 

  


He began to dream of people coming to his cell, just to talk. Spanap, Callahan, Bad, George, even Tommy-- vivid thoughts of them danced in his visions, and everytime he awoke disappointed, cold, lonely, reaching out for a familiar face.

  


He didn’t sleep anymore. 

  


After another week passed with no visitors, Dream began to act out in rage, burning his clock, shredding his notebooks, refusing to eat. It burned him, his anger, bubbling and hissing like the lava at the entrance of his cell, but the burn only fueled his flames and he continued his destructive ways. 

  


“Someone came by to visit today.” 

  


Dream perked up, his interest piqued. “Who was it?” he rasped, throat dry from disuse.

  


“It doesn’t matter. I had to tell them you were misbehaving and could not accept visitors.”

  


Dream flung his clock against the wall, shattering it.

  


\---

  


It was supposed to develop slowly, the illness. That’s what Dream’s research had shown. So why was it hitting him so quickly, so severely? 

  


Dream’s breathing was laboured. It shouldn’t be like this, not yet. His knees felt weak, and he found himself slumped against the prison wall, still breathing hard. He had only been imprisoned for two months. He hadn’t expected the illness to strike so swiftly, to leave him so weak. 

  


On the fourth day of this, when the pains wracked Dream’s body so hard that he couldn’t find the strength to leave his uncomfortable bed, all he could do was think. 

  


‘Is this how I want to die?’ Dream wondered. ‘Helpless and alone?’

  


The next day, he musters up the strength to use his communicator, the only tool Sam allowed him to use on occasion, when he was good. There were unread messages he’d sent to his friends, asking them to come and visit, that they’d ignored. He looked over those for now, ignoring the sting that came with thinking about them, and selected a new contact. 

  


_ Dream whispers to Technoblade: I need to call in that favor. _

  


When Techno arrived at the prison under the pretense of paying Dream a visit to gloat, he didn't anticipate the severity of the ramifications in place to prevent the lone occupant from escaping. He took careful note of the securities in place, under the impression that Dream wanted to break out. 

  


"Hallo," Technoblade called casually, through the lava door’s gurgling flow. He frowned at the lack of response from Dream. 

  


And when lava replaced the entry behind him, he finally turned to face Dream. Technoblade couldn’t help but gape over how frail Dream looked, despite how strong and powerful he’d looked mere months prior. Now, he was hunched over in his cot, the epitome of sickly and weak. 

  


"You think I'm asking you to break me out, don't you?" Dream said, voice quiet in the echoing room. 

  


"It's not going to be easy–" Techno began.

  


"I'm not asking that of you." Dream took a deep, shuddering breath. "Techno, I am going to die."

  


Techno stared at Dream. "How? What are you talking about?"

  


"It doesn’t matter how. I only need one thing from you, for your favor."

  


“What do you need, Dream?”

  


Dream stood from his bed, standing directly in front of the other man. "Techno, for your favor: please just keep me company."

  


This was startling to Techno for a number of reasons. One: What had happened to Dream? He looked awful, and no known sickness could do this to a man in such a short period of time. Two: He was asking Technoblade to keep him company? Techno, with no social skills? Who he wasn’t even friends with in the first place? 

  


“I’ll do it.” 

  


They spent the remainder of the visit in awkward camaraderie, Techno with his gentle teasing, and Dream with his soft chuckles. They found that Dream’s lungs were too weak to produce his token wheezes. Everytime he tried, it just ended in a coughing fit, Techno rubbing and patting at Dream’s back awkwardly, as if he’d never tried to take care of anyone before. 

  


When it comes time for Technoblade to leave, he pauses in the entryway. “I’ll find the cure,” he says, unprompted. “To whatever you have, whatever’s making you so sick. I’ll make you better.” 

  


The promise lingered in the air, and before Dream could respond, Techno had turned away, and Dream watched his cape sweep down the hall before the lava obscured him once more. 

  


\---

  


He remembered the last time he spoke with his friends, a real conversation. Dream flinched against the memory, burying his head in his pillow. 

  


"Just say that you hate me," George had said.

  


He didn't. He couldn't. 

  


He’d just wanted to protect him, really. Why did he end up hurting the people he wanted to protect?

  


Techno visited him the next day. 

  


"Have you ever heard the story of the thousand paper cranes?" He asked Dream, fingers twitching nervously. 

  


"No," Dream responded. "I don't think I have."

  


"Well, it's a Japanese folk tale," Techno explained. "They say that if you fold one thousand paper cranes, your wish will come true."

  


Techno walked to the lone chest in the room, flipping it open and taking a blank notebook from the inside. At Dream's confused look, he rips a sheet of paper from the inside and offers it to him. "Here. I'll show you how to make one.”

  


Fifteen minutes and several failed attempts later, Dream proudly brandished his very first crane. "It's so cute," he marvels, examining the wings. 

  


Techno scoffs, "Yeah, only nine hundred and ninety-nine to go."

  


Dream, quickly getting the hang of origami, started to fold in earnest. When he had 10 lined up in a row in front of him, Techno looked at them thoughtfully. Pulling a loose thread from his robe, he wove the birds together on the string. Dream watched, still folding, as Techno hung the string of cranes from his ceiling, directly above his bed. They were a spot of color, of hope, in the dark room. 

  


\---

  


Techno walked in, carrying a new clock from Sam. Dream didn’t look up, too focused on making his cranes.

  


“You’ve made a lot of progress.” Techno notes, looking at the small pile next to Dream. Without further delay, he hangs the new clock on the wall and sets to hanging the new cranes on the ceiling. It’s quiet, for a while.

  


"Techno," Dream asked, puncturing the silence. "Have you heard any stories about the wish coming true? From the cranes, I mean."

  


Techno looked guilty. "I've only heard one version of the story told. I've asked around, but everyone says the same thing, with slight variations.

  


"There was a girl named Sadako, and she was known to be the most energetic girl in her town, always jumping and leaping and running around. When sickness overtook her, it hit hard, but she had always believed in luck, good fortune, silly superstitions that most people brushed aside. She was bedridden in the hospital when her friend brought her paper, told the legend of the cranes. She was determined, and folded like her life depended on it.

  


"She started to get better after a while, got to go back home. But she was still folding, always folding. And as soon as her health had come back to her, it vanished, and she got much worse. She died in the hospital.

  


"The story ends there. She never got to finish making the thousand, so we’ll never know if her wish would come true.”

  


Dream was silent for a moment. 

  


“If there’s anyone that can finish making a thousand cranes, it’s you.” Techno told him, not for comfort, but because he truly believed it. If there’s one thing that Dream is, he’s dedicated. 

  


Techno visited most days, keeping Dream company. Often he brought along a book to read, and they sat in silence, Dream folding and Techno reading. It was peaceful, calm. 

  


Some days, Dream asked Sam to not let Techno in. Those were the days that his whole body was wracked with pains, when he could hardly leave his bed. Those days, he struggled to even make his cranes. 

  


Dream could no longer say he wasn’t a superstitious person. He’d invested all of his time increasing his supply of paper cranes. He knew it was a futile quest, a pointless endeavor really, but it was the only hope he had, the only thing to occupy is time while Techno wasn’t visiting. And while the nagging thoughts in the back of his head told him it was a waste of time, he folded on. 

  


\---

  


Techno was standing at the outside of the prison with Sam, who had told him Dream wasn’t accepting visitors that day. 

  


“At least tell me what’s wrong with him,” Techno fiddled with his armor. “He’s getting weaker every day. He’s not going to last much longer, can’t you see that? Do you want one of your prisoners to die?”

  


Sam sighed, looked away. “That’s how he designed the prison.” 

  


“What?”

  


“He knew that they would only put someone that committed the harshest of crimes in there. That’s why whoever occupies it has to die.” Sam explained.

  


“But what’s killing him?” Techno pressed. “Is it lingering poison? Some kind of invisible mob?” 

  


“It’s the mining fatigue that Elder Guardians give off. Constant exposure harms the body, the cells start to be unable to break down proteins and fight away bacteria. If you get a break from the effect, you’ll be fine, but if you have it for months and months…” Sam trailed off. “It’s something that he discovered.”

  


Techno just stared. 

  


\---

  


Techno stood at the entrance of the cell, panting. His clothes were stained red, and he brandished an axe. 

  


“I killed the warden.” Techno said, simply. “Let’s get you out of here.” 

  


“No,” Dream rasped. “It’s too late for me.” As if to demonstrate, he let a skinny, sickly arm fall out of his covers. 

  


Techno’s eyes were filled with denial. “We can try. Come on, Dream.” He said, trying to lift him from the bed.

  


Dream protested, trying and failing to push Techno away. “Even so, I deserve to be here. This is my own doing.” 

  


“I don’t care. You’ve changed, Dream. The man that was put in here, he would’ve never admitted that what he did was wrong. You deserve a second chance.” Techno pleaded. 

  


Despite Dream’s better wishes, Techno lifted him from the bed, his frail body weightless in his arms. “I’m taking you home.” 

  


It took weeks, the healing process, but over time, Dream seemed to be getting better. Color returned to his cheeks, he began to eat solid foods again. But all the while, he was petulant, he tried to sneak away in the dead of night, he tried to refuse food and water.

  


“Techno, I don’t deserve this.” Dream told him when he was caught trying to run away again. “I know that you don’t want to see me dead, but it’s what needs to happen.”

  


“You’ve changed,” Techno insisted stubbornly. “You’re not the same guy that did all of those awful things.”

  


“Yes, I am. I might be anymore, but I was an abuser, a manipulator. How can you even be sure that I’m not manipulating you right now?”

  


“I’m not an idiot, Dream. Listen, we don’t have to think about the past right now, just focus on being good in the future. 

  


It was confusing to Technoblade, in all honesty. He didn’t know why he felt so much sympathy for a man that used to be his rival.

He could understand brushing away his crimes, Techno was by no means innocent himself. 

  


\---

  


Sam’s ghost hung around, sometimes. Never with malicious intent, but quietly observing. 

  


“You knew.” accused Techno one day, and Sam simply nodded. “All that time, you knew and you were okay with putting him in there.”

  


“He knew, too.” 

  


“It’s inhumane, it’s cruel. What gives you the right to make someone suffer like that?”

  


“I wasn’t the one that decided to put him in there. I wasn’t even the one that decided to use mining fatigue like that. It was his plan, his design. He knew what he was getting into. Would you feel the same way if anyone else had been in that vault? Maybe Phil or Ranboo. But if Tommy was in there, would you care?”

  


Techno was silent for a moment. “If anyone else had been in there, I wouldn’t have known. No one would’ve known the reason they were dying.”

  


“So it’s a fitting way for him to die, in a prison of his own design.”

  


"No one should die like that." said Techno stubbornly.

  


"You have to remember that he put himself there. You have to remember that he made the plans for the cell himself. He didn't intend on being in there, but that's where he ended up. Stop feeling sympathy for him, when it's his fault it existed in the first place."

  


Techno turned away from Sam's ghost, feeling torn. Dream was complacent, complicit, even, in this suffering. 

  


One night, when Techno caught Dream trying to sneak away again, he confronted him. 

  


"You're the villain." 

  


Dream nodded. 

  


"But so am I."

  


"No. Not a villain." Dream said. "You know your morals, and you follow them to the T. Even if your ideals are problematic, you're still a good person. You care for others. You took in Tommy. You took in Ranboo. And now you've taken me in. You're a good person, Technoblade."

  


"I blew up a country."

  


"Everyone seems to forget that the blowing-up part was mostly me. You just spawned a couple of withers." Dream huffed out a laugh. 

  


"I've still killed hundreds of people. You can't know that and say that I'm a good person."

  


"You need to let me leave." Dream said, voice uncharacteristically quiet. "I don't want to hurt you, and I know that if I stay any longer, I will." He pressed a single crane into Techno's hands. "And I almost finished the cranes, too. I stopped at nine hundred and ninety-nine. But it's not my miracle to take. I don't deserve it."

  


Techno's a lot stronger than Dream, especially right now, but this time, he let him go. Techno watched Dream fade into the horizon, saw his footprints fade as snow obscured his path. 

  


His heart ached with loss, and he folded one last crane, praying that Dream wouldn't go where Techno thought he was going. He wasn't a religious man, or one to believe in fairy tales, but he wished, prayed on the crane to one day see Dream again. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed. If you like this concept, feel free to rewrite it! 
> 
> If you want to follow me on twitter, my tag is @fudgesaucecakes there. Gimme mcyt moots pls :))


End file.
